Broken
by Tufira
Summary: A year after the Blight has ended, a new refugee arrives in Kirkwall who seems to stir up trouble wherever she goes. Unfortunately for Reina Hawke, she seems determined to be a part of their merry little group. However, it is when the new arrival meets a certain healer that things start to get really troublesome.
1. A Forgotten Hero

Well, it's been a long time since I posted anything to this site. Thanks to everyone who has kept reading my stories! I plan on updating _Little Blondie_ and _In Glass Houses_ soon, but as I feel my writing style has changed quite a bit since they were posted, I will be rewriting the chapter I already have before I post any more. Also, I am completely in love with Inquisition, so expect a story from that some time soon.

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Prologue - A Forgotten Hero

The guard stands motionlessly. His eyes lazily drift up to the sky, silently wondering what he had done to get this post. The Gallows is a quiet, simple position filled with nothing but loud templars and those emotionless Tranquil. It is easy and safe and utterly boring. The templars are completely capable of standing watch by themselves, but apparently, that is not enough for the higher ups. Ever since the Blight in Ferelden, the Viscount has demanded that there always be guards on patrol to keep the peace in the Gallows.

At the time, it had been an excellent idea and had worked as best it could. However, considering that the Blight was ended over a year ago, there is little need for them to patrol the area. The refugees that had been denied admission to the city had left months ago and no new ones had arrived in even longer. He honestly does not understand what he is meant to be protecting the people from. The Tranquil? Being hit with a pillow would hurt more than anything those brain-dead mages could do.

Most of the time, the Guard-Captain assigns the Gallows to recruits that he wishes to punish or teach a lesson to. No one wants a post this boring, even if it is safe. Again, he wonders what it was that he had done to anger Jeven. It may have been nothing, for the Guard-Captain is known to suddenly switch around the patrols on the duty roster for no apparent reason. That must be it. Someone else is the subject of the captain's ire, but he is unlucky enough to have to serve the punishment.

A loud, repetitive clanking sound draws him out of his thoughts, and he notices an elderly woman hunched over, bearing her weight on a wooden stick, and limping towards him. Her blue and white robes are tattered and worn thin, and underneath the hood, a head of stringy red hair shines in the sunlight. She walks straight up to him, only stopping when she is a couple feet away. "Well, is the city open or not?" she snaps in a voice that sounds decades too young for her appearance.

He feels for the woman. She is obviously unwell, but the Viscount's orders strictly forbid anyone from entering the city without permission. "I am afraid they are not. If you are sick or injured, there are healers out here in the courtyard, but there will be no entrance to the city."

"Flaming perfect," the woman mutters harshly, taking a step towards the guard. He mirrors her action and steps back, suddenly fearful at her intense presence. "Save the world, and this is the thanks I get? Not even allowed to return to my own home?"

"P-Please, allow one of the healers to tend to you. It is obvious you are unwell, serah," he stammers. One of his fellow guards catches his eye and, noticing the threatening posture of the woman, draws his sword and quickly approaches them.

She scoffs from underneath her hood. "Unwell? You're damned right I'm unwell! Do you have any blighted idea who I am!" Without missing a beat, she turns her head to the approaching guard, emitting an low, throaty growl. "If you value your life, you will step away from me and let me into my city."

"No one enters the city without the Viscount's permission," the newly arrived guard states flatly. The woman says nothing, and the man narrows his eyes at her. "Guardsman, I believe we should leave this one to the Captain, wouldn't you agree?"

"I am not bound to follow your petty rules. Trust me when I say I have the right and power to force those doors open if you do not do so willingly. I will not say this again," she says as she struggles to stand up straight.

The second guardsman sneers at her. "You think to threaten us? How about we have you thrown into the Keep for a few nights and see how that changes your attitude? Let's take her to the captain!" He turns to the first guard, who only eyes the woman fearfully and does not move.

He had felt it. The first time she spoke to him, the woman's powers practically emanated from her being. She is dangerous, that much is obvious. When the second guard arrived, her anger and might were directed towards that man, but he is either too proud or too stupid to notice. Whatever she is hiding behind this crippled and elderly persona - if it is even an act - is a dangerous and terrifying person.

Suddenly, a blast of magic bursts from the woman and sends the guards flying. Every templar in the Gallows takes note and immediately runs over to smite her. She calmly shields herself in a barrier as she ascends the stairs, trapping the templars in giant crushing prison. Although she marches with purpose, she still favors her right leg and uses the branch - or staff rather - as a crutch. Her robes billow behind her as she moves, and her hood falls from the face.

The guards at the door stare into her hazel eyes with horror. Her expression is twisted into one of such rage the one of the men promptly relieves his bladder in his armor. "I am Aria Amell, Hero and Warden-Commander of Ferelden, and I will not be denied entrance to this blighted city any longer! Now open the doors, or I shall break them down myself!"


	2. A New Arrival

Chapter One - A New Arrival

An arrow flies past his head, narrowly missing his ear. His teeth grit in determination as he sees the archer, red hair ablaze, notch another arrow. He rolls on his side to dodge her shot. Quickly, he throws a smoke bomb at his feet, the flask exploding on contact and shrouding him from the archer's relentless attack. The smoke trails him in wisps as he dashes to cover behind a tall tree.

These blighted fools had shown up out of nowhere. He and his men were relieving a nearby ship of its cargo, when they had leapt out at them, weapons already swinging. They had been completely caught off guard. Jensen and most of his men were already on the ground, and he was the only one left. The archer and her mage had been the most annoying. Their attacks are far more difficult to to dodge than those of the elf with the big sword and the guardsman. Of course, now that the rest of his men are dead, all four will be coming after him.

Twenty men. These four bastards somehow manage to kill all twenty of his men. Just who are these blighted people anyhow? He palms his daggers clumsily as his mind races with ways that he can survive this encounter. Unfortunately, he can think of none. That smoke bomb he used to escape the archer had been his last, and there is obviously no way he can hope to defeat whoever these people are.

As he contemplates his options, an arrow embeds itself in his shoulder and a scream tears from his mouth. Another sharp pain slashes through his stomach, and everything goes white. He tries to run, to crawl away, but the last thing he sees is the elf's giant sword swinging towards his head.

"That's the last of them," Aveline sighs as she sheathes her sword. Situating her shield on her back, she rejoins the other three. "At least for now. Maker knows that there are more of them showing up every week, no matter how many of them we take down."

Reina slings her bow over her shoulder as they start to walk back to Kirkwall. "There will always be bad people in the world. That's unavoidable. It's what you do to stop them that counts."

Aveline offers her a soft smile. The two share a very close bond, more akin to sisters than just friends. Ever since they had met in the darkspawn infested Wilds of Ferelden, she had known that Reina Hawke was something special. Over the last year and a half, the younger woman has proved that time and time again. No matter what the situation, she stands for justice. Whenever there is someone in trouble or in need, Reina is always the first to step up to offer her assistance.

Right as they walk into Hightown, another guardsman runs up to them. "Aveline!" she calls, breath heaving from exertion. The woman slows to a stop in front of them and pauses to catch her breath. "Remember how you told us to let you know if we saw anything in the old Amell estate? Well, Brennen said she heard something from inside."

Aveline and Reina exchange a quick glance. They had cleared out the estate with Bethany not a month ago. Leandra was trying to petition the rights to the estate back, but the deed had been transferred legally. It was proving more difficult than they had anticipated. "What was it? Did she investigate?"

"No, we aren't allowed to. It could have been the owner, and then we'd have been trespassing. I just thought you would want to know since..." The woman trails off, her eyes shyly drifting towards Reina.

"I understand, thank you," Aveline says. The guard nods quickly and turns to walk away. "What do you think, Hawke? More of the slavers come back?"

Reina rubs her fingers in circles against her temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Maker, I hope not. They were such a pain last time. Even so, if it is more of the slavers, we have to go check and put them down."

"I agree," Fenris mutters through clenched teeth. Knowing his past and his resulting hatred for mages and slavers alike, Reina had brought him with them when they had cleared the house the first time. He seemed to take particular joy in beheading the slaver mage with the vault key.

The four take a detour to Darktown. The basement of the Amell estate extends all the way there, right next to Anders's clinic. The apostate had realised one day that if the Hawke family was granted the rights to the estate, Reina would be closer than ever to him. That thought alone has kept him awake many nights, thinking of her.

It is no secret that Anders has feeling for Reina, and he has never attempted to hide them. She had returned his compliments on many occasion but had never tried to take it a step further. Perhaps that is because he constantly pushes her away. As much as he cares for her, he cannot bring himself to allow her close. Not after Karl, not after the Warden, not after the Circle. Every time he has allowed someone close, they have ended up hurt or worse.

After they had cleared out the estate the first time, Reina had smashed the ladder and door in to keep anyone else from making it their unofficial home. Now that they are the ones wanting in, it seems their little plan had backfired. Fenris and Aveline quickly clear the rubble out of the way, but none of them can reach the opening without the ladder. Reina examines it carefully for a moment before an idea pops into her head. "Fenris, think you could give me a boost?"

The elf merely shrugs. He places his hands on either side of her waist and lifts her up onto his shoulders. Despite his lanky appearance, Fenris has quite an impressive muscle strength. Reina interlocks her fingers into his and shakily stands to her feet, balancing on him. Once she is steady, she pulls herself up into the estate before hoisting Fenris up as well.

The estate is just as quiet as it was before. Another layer of grime and dirt seems to have settled on everything, but nothing appears any different. In fact, it all looks exactly as they left it. "Perhaps that guard was mistaken," Fenris says, his hand resting on the thick hilt of his sword, just in case.

"Brennan wouldn't have reported something in here without being sure that there wasn't something here in the first place. She knows that this is important to us," Aveline says with a slight shake of the head. "Something was here. There had to be."

Reina throws her hand out quickly, a silencing finger to her lips. The others immediately stop moving and watch for her signal. Her hand slowly swings around to point up at the vault door, hanging off its hinges. Before they had left the last time, she had made sure to lock the door behind them and take the key, that way if anyone did get in, they would not be able to steal anything.

Drawing her bow quietly, Reina creeps toward the door, Aveline close on her heels. Fenris and Anders hang back safely but ready to dash in at a moment's notice. Peeking her fiery head in the doorway, Reina quickly surveys the vault before returning to a relaxed stance. "Whoever was here is gone now, and it doesn't look like they took anything."

"Not like there was much in here any way," Anders says lightly. Reina playfully bumps into his shoulder with a laugh, and he feels his cheeks flushing from her touch. Maker's breath, if a tap to the shoulder is enough to make him flustered, imagine the effect she would have on him if she really tried.

"It's getting late," Reina says as they head back to the exit, "and Darktown isn't safe at night. We should be heading home. Anders, can you keep an eye out to see if our intruder returns?"

"Of course," he nods. As soon as they exit the estate, Anders leaves the group and enters his clinic. The walk out of Darktown is quiet as usual for the other three. Reina tells Fenris and Aveline goodbye when they reach Lowtown and heads straight to Gamlen's house.

After a long day of fighting, that shack is the last place she wants to return to, but a roof over her head at night is better than nothing. Gamlen had welcomed them with hesitant arms, but he is the only way they would have even made it into the city. They owe him everything, a fact that he is reluctant to let them forget. Bethany and her mother have tried their best to make it as homey as possible, but even with their creativity, the smell of piss and ale still hangs around the place.

When she reaches Gamlen's, Bethany is the only one home. Immediately, she can tell something is wrong. Her sister's skin is paler than usual, hazel eyes wide, and hands shaking. "Beth, what's the matter? Is it the templars?" Her sister shakes her head, unable to get the words out. Instead, she points to the bedroom that they share.

She quickly grips the dagger in her boot in her right hand and peeks her head in the doorway. A hooded figure sits in one of the wooden chairs against the wall, her robes dirty and torn. "Imagine my surprise," the woman says in a low, Ferelden accent, "when I finally get the chance to return to my homeland and not only find my family's supposed home abandoned but also my long lost cousins squatting in a piss shack."

Reina falters, caught off guard by the woman's statement. Their father had been an only child, and Mother and Gamlen had told them that the rest of the Amells were long gone. "What are you talking about? There is no way that we are family."

"They never told you about me? Not surprising. Families don't usually like to brag about mage-blooded children," the woman pauses, leaning slightly to get a view of Bethany peering around the corner, "but I'd suppose you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, cousin? Your family must have loved you dearly if they never sent you to the Circle. To think, we could've been bunk mates."

"Stop this!" Reina yells. Whoever this woman is, she feels wrong to her. Just speaking to her sends shivers down her spine. "I don't know what has deluded your mind, but we are not family! Now get out of our home before I call the guard."

The woman pushes herself up to stand while heavily favouring her right leg. Reina makes a mental note of that, now knowing where to strike first. "I didn't figure that you would have any idea of who I am, but surely you can see the family resemblance?"

The dagger drops from Reina's hand as the woman lowers her hood. Her blue eyes widen in surprise, taking in the woman's appearance. Bethany whispers something behind her, but she cannot understand a word. All she can focus on is her doppelganger standing right before her.


	3. An Unexpected Solution

Chapter Two - An Unexpected Solution

Reina stands frozen as the woman stares her down with a victorious smirk. Her hair, red as fire, is only shades darker than Reina's own. Her skin, though mottled with marks and scars, is the same creamy tone. Only her eyes - hazel, like Bethany's - is different from the rogue's blue orbs. "Do you believe me now? If you need further confirmation, wait until Leandra and Gamlen return. I'm definitely looking forward to meeting both the golden child and black sheep of the family."

"W-Who are you?" Reina stammers out, finally gaining the ability to speak. She feels Bethany's hands come to rest on her shoulders, the mage just as unsettled as her elder sister.

The strange woman quirks her eyebrow with a smirk and clumsily lowers herself into the chair, still putting no weight on her leg. "I thought you'd never ask. My name is Aria Amell. I was one of the mage children of your mother's cousin and was taken to the Ferelden Circle."

"Well, I'm Reina Hawke. This is my sister Bethany," she says motioning over her shoulder to the mage. Bethany offers Aria a soft smile. "But what are you doing here? How did you get out of the Circle?"

Aria eyes her with a hard scowl. "You really have heard nothing from Ferelden, have you? The Circle was destroyed mere months after I left. I'd probably be dead if it weren't for the Wardens."

"Wasn't the Hero of Ferelden a Circle mage?" Bethany asks. When she had heard that a mage had saved her homeland, she had been filled with pride. Perhaps people would come to realise that mages were not so bad. Aria tilts her head sarcastically and waits for her cousin to put it together. When she does, Bethany lets out a loud screech and practically leaps to her side. "That was you, wasn't it? You're the Hero of Ferelden!"

Reina's mouth drops open as Aria nods. Bethany is practically bouncing off their cousin, questions flying out of her mouth faster than she can think. Aria shoots her a glare until she calms down but even that is not enough to wipe the smile off her face. "To think, the Hero of Ferelden is not only a mage, but our cousin as well! How exciting is that?"

"If you're the Hero of Ferelden, why are you here? The Hero was named Warden-Commander, right? So, shouldn't you be in Ferelden?" Reina shakes her head, still in disbelief.

A dark look overtakes Aria's face, and she turns her head away from them. For a moment, Reina wonders if she had said something out of place. With a deep sigh, her cousin finally answers in a surprisingly bitter voice, "I am no longer welcome in Ferelden. That is why I came here."

"Not welcome? You saved that country and all of Thedas! They - we - all owe you our lives," Reina cries in disbelief. "What could you have possibly done that they would make you leave?" Aria says nothing, her mouth set in a firm, thin line.

The front door opens, and the soft sounds of Leandra's humming drifts into their bedroom. Bethany scurries off to tell her mother and uncle the news, leaving Reina and Aria alone. The mage's fingertips tap sharply against the arm rest of the chair as the voices grow in excitement and volume. Her voice is low, but the anger in it is unmistakable. "It is none of your concern why I cannot return. It is my burden and mine alone."

Before Reina can respond, Leandra rushes into the room, freezing in the doorway. "Andraste's grace, it is you," Tears mist in her eyes as she looks over Aria, who shifts uncomfortably under her gaze. "And you look just like your mother."

That catches the mage's attention. She shoots straight up in her chair, hazel eyes widening with surprise. "I do?"

Leandra laughs as she wipes the tears from her cheeks. Behind her, Gamlen peers his head around her shoulder and his jaw nearly drops to the floor. "Oh yes. You have her hair and her eyes. Oh, come here and let us look at you!"

Reina's eyes flash down to her cousin's injured leg. Was she born with that or was it received later? There is no way that her mother would not notice it. Aria hesitates in her chair, and it takes another minute of gentle urging from Leandra for her to comply. Gripping the arms of the chair, she shakily forces herself to her feet. Leandra's eyes go wide as saucers. "My dear, w-what happened to you? Is that from the...?"

"No," Aria says tersely. Everyone else can tell that the topic is not up for discussion just from her tone. Despite her intense demeanor, she struggles to stay balanced, with her staff propped against the wall out of reach. Bethany shyly steps forward and hands her the staff almost reverently. Aria flashes the younger mage a softer look, most likely all the thanks she would receive.

Still eyeing the weak leg, Leandra walks towards the mage. Her bright eyes flash up to Aria's face, studying her intently. "There, do you see it, Gamlen? She's got the Amell nose. And her father's brow. He was a minor lord from Wycome, you know."

Aria bats Leandra's prying hand away with a hard frown. The older woman stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. "What happened to my parents? Where are the rest of the Amells?"

Leandra turns to face Gamlen, deferring to him to answer Aria's questions. When she ran off with Malcolm, she had practically denounced her family. She had been just as surprised to return to Kirkwall find only Gamlen remaining. "After you, Revka and her husband tried for one more baby. She was...older and both died during the delivery. Your father went back to Wycome after that, and we never heard from him again."

"And what about the rest of the family?" she demands. Gamlen matches her harsh glare with one of his own. Reina can practically feel the tension in the air. "There was supposed to be an estate. Somewhere I could h- Somewhere that a mage would be safe."

"Long gone," Gamlen scoffs with a scowl. "All that's left of the Amells is in this room. The estate is out of our hands." The last line is directed pointedly to his sister, who just rolls her eyes with a huff.

Aria squeezes her eyes shut tightly, a sharp hiss slipping through her lips. Her hand clenches tightly around her staff. "I guess there is nothing for me here then. I will find somewhere else to go."

"What in the Maker's name are you talking about, dear? If you need somewhere to stay, our doors are open to you," Leandra says softly. Behind her, Gamlen grumbles to himself about his sister opening emhis/em doors once again.

"I could not ask that of you," Aria says blankly. She slowly makes her way towards the door. Bethany's eyes widen, fearful that her newfound cousin will truly leave. "I will find somewhere else to go. Perhaps Wycome."

Leandra steps in front of the mage. Ignoring her harsh scowl, she lays a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Aria, if you're looking for your father, there's no guarantee that you will find him. He left Kirkwall over two decades ago. If you go to Wycome, nothing is certain. But we are here and that will not change. We are still family, and we take care of you."

Pushing Leandra's arm away, Aria practically snarls at her. "I do not need your charity! I am a grown woman and a Grey Warden. I can take care of myself."

"Do not forget that you are also a mage," Leandra responds, her voice low and hard. Reina rarely ever heard her mother speak in that tone; it was only used when she or her siblings had been especially bad, "and right now, the Free Marches is the worst place for a mage to be. You are obviously hurt, in more ways than one, and we are ready to help our kin."

Aria stares back at the older woman, almost in disbelief. She clears her throat and drops her head. "I... thank you. Perhaps it will be nice to not be on the run. At least I won't have to stay in an abandoned estate."

Reina's eyes widen as she gasps. "That was you? The guards said they heard noises from the Amell estate, but when we went to check it out, no one was there. We thought it might be more of those slavers."

"Slavers?" Aria repeats, her dark eyebrow quirking in confusion. "When I arrived in Kirkwall, I was directed to the old Amell estate and told nothing else. I found corpses, which was a cause for concern, but nothing else. The only reason I found this pisshole is because I heard some nobles gossiping about how Leandra Amell had returned to reclaim her home."

"That is the plan," Leandra says pointedly, looking over her shoulder at her scowling brother. "Bethany, dear, come help me prepare supper. I'm sure Aria needs her rest."

With a disappointed sigh, the youngest Hawke follows their mother into the kitchen. Once again, Reina finds herself alone with her distant cousin. Aria stands awkwardly, holding tightly to her staff. "I'm not useless, you know," she finally says, her voice low and rushed. "Just because I'm crippled. I can still fight, still help. I have knowledge of potions and poisons. I will not be a burden."

"We would never think of you as such. You are family, and we will help you unconditionally," Reina says with a soft smile. Hesitantly, she reaches out, laying her hand on Aria's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Aria inhales sharply, her eyes drifting to the floor. Her mouth falls open, but no words come out. She closes her mouth and swallows the lump in it. "I will not be a burden," she repeats in a small voice.


	4. An Unfortunate Encounter

Chapter Three - An Unfortunate Encounter

"What is this?" Aria asks in disgust. Norah rolls her eyes and continues placing tankards in front of the others at the table. Varric had been positively ecstatic to discover that the missing Hero of Ferelden was actually in Kirkwall and had convinced Hawke to bring her to the Hanged Man to meet every one.

"This, my dear Warden, is the Hanged Man's finest!" the dwarf chuckles before taking a sip of his own ale. Aria Amell had not been what he had expected, to say the least. Tales told of the Warden boast of her ferocity, her bravery, and her beauty. They say nothing of her temper or her grumpiness. Before she arrived, he thought that Fenris was the broodiest person he had ever met, but Aria somehow rivals the elf in that department.

She gingerly pushes the tankard away with a scowl on her face, opting instead to drink a cup of water. "It smells disgusting. How do you drink this piss water?"

Reina laughs as she tips her own mug back. "Oh, it's not so bad once you get used to it. It's kind of...homey. Besides, it's all you can get in Lowtown."

"I suppose it does feel homey since it smells exactly like Gamlen's shack," Aria snorts with a shake of her head. Reina nearly chokes on the liquid in her mouth, decidedly pushing her own drink away. Putting it that way definitely makes her lose her taste for the drink.

"I'll take that, thank you," Isabela purrs as she waltzes into Varric's suite and snatches up Reina's discarded drink. She downs the drink as she lowers herself into an empty seat. Her dark eyes drift over to Aria, her lips curling into a smile. "Who's your - Hold a tick, I know you!"

Aria's jaw drops open. Maybe it is the lighting in the room, but Reina almost swears she sees a faint blush on her cousin's cheeks. "I-Isabela? What are you doing here?"

"After I left Ferelden, I got shipwrecked off the Wounded Coast sadly. Say, you're not still in touch with Zevran are you? Because I'd like to be," the pirate responds with a saucy wink. Clearing her throat awkwardly, Aria shakes her head firmly, and Isabela's lips pucker into a pout. "Too bad. But how are you and-"

"That's enough reminiscing," Aria says harshly, cutting off Isabela's question. The other woman's eyebrows rise in alarm, but she quickly shrugs her shoulders and helps herself to Aria's discarded ale as well.

Varric's keen eyes dart between the women, sensing a delicious story. He'll have to ask the pirate about it later. Right on time, Norah pops her head through the doorway, and he signals for her to bring another round. "Well, Trigger, I'd love to hear one of your stories from the Blight."

The room sits in a still silence for a moment before Aria does a quick double take. "Wait, was that meant for me?"At the dwarf's nod, her mouth twists into a frown. "Just how am I _Trigger_?"

"Isn't it obvious? I feel like whenever someone speaks to you, there's a big chance that you'll blow your lid. It's like playing conversational roulette." Aria's mouth sets into a firm line, and Varric shakes his head, chuckling lightly. "I...probably shouldn't have said that."

"Varric doesn't mean anything by it. He gives everyone a nickname," Bethany says reassuringly. She smiles delicately at her cousin. "He calls me Sunshine."

Aria softens at the young mage's words, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She has only been staying with the Hawke family for a couple days, but already Bethany has managed to charm her way into the tough mage's heart. "Well, that one seems obvious. What about you, Reina? What does he call you?"

"I-" Reina starts but quickly falters. She quirks her head towards the dwarf, brows furrowed in concentration. "I don't have a nickname. What's with that, Varric?"

He scoffs playfully, dismissing her worries with a wave of his hand. "You're the hero of the story, Hawke. The hero never gets a nickname, just the entourage."

"Oh, but I get one?" Aria quips with a brow raise, her lips pulled into a smirk. "Y'know, with the whole ending the Blight bit."

"That's well and good, Trigger, but this isn't your story. Hawke is our dear, beloved protagonist for now. If you ever decide to let me tell your story, then I'll have to get rid of the nickname. Until then, I guess you're just stuck with Trigger," Varric says with a laugh.

While there are times that the Warden scares him shitless, she has her moments where she lets them all see the woman behind the anger. He cannot help but wonder what makes her this way. It is obvious even to him that she was not always ruled by her temper. Something to do with her injury perhaps? He will definitely have to ask Rivani about her.

"You said these others have nicknames as well. What are they? Matter of fact, who are they?" Aria asks. So far, the only ones of Hawke's companions she had met are Varric, Aveline, and Isabela, who she had previously encountered. The rest have remained a mystery to her.

"Let's see, there's Broody, Blondie, and Dasiy," Varric counts them off on his small fingers. "Isabela here is Rivani. I'll let you figure out which name belongs to the other three when they all get here."

While they wait for the others, Aria sits in a stoic silence, watching the others merrily chat and drink. Isabela and Varric swap tales of a past life and something disturbing they have titled "friend-fiction." Bethany blushes all the way to her ears as they continue and excuses herself to go get Norah's attention.

Reina and her friends are decidedly not what Aria had been expecting. They were jovial and friendly and seemed to honestly enjoy each other's company. This sense of camaraderie was the one thing she sorely missed about the Blight. Well, one of the things. Her expression grows somber and forlorn as she thinks back to those nights at camp, listening to stories from Orlais, Par Vollen, Orzammar, Antiva, and the Wilds. Everyone always tried to one up each other's stories until they got to the point where it was nothing more than extravagant fiction.

A loud, deep voice stirs her from her thoughts, and she looks up just in time to see two Dalish elves walk in to the suite together. "Hawke," the male spits out. His markings - what had the Brecillian Dalish clan called them - seem quite extraordinary, glowing against his dark skin, "tell your maleficar to stop following me like a lost puppy."

The girl shifts awkwardly on the tips of her bare feet. Her doe like eyes look up at the man and a trace of a smile pulls at her lips. "I got lost again. There are so many twists and turns here. It's so hard to keep things straight."

"Somehow she waltzed right past this place and ended up in Hightown," the male grunts as he falls into an empty chair. That is when the two elves notice her. The female's face lights up at a prospective new friend, while the man's eyes narrow in suspicion. "Who is this?"

No one around the table says anything. Varric and Isabela look at her expectantly, and that is when she remembers that she is supposed to guess. With a sigh, she leans forward, her elbow on the table and her head resting on her knuckles. "Let's see... You must be Daisy, and you're Broody," she says, pointing first at the female then the male, "and I'm Aria."

The man's mouth forms a hard line at the use of his disliked nickname. Varric laughs loudly. "Right you are. This is Merrill, our resident Dalish, and our Angsty Tevinter Elf, Fenris."

"Tevinter?" she repeats, a dark eyebrow curling in surprise. "That is...unexpected. I thought you Dalish."

"I did too! His marking do look an awful lot like _vallaslin_," Merrill chirps brightly. That was the word the Dalish had used. Aria runs the word through her mind, the sound foreign and forced. It had not sounded so bubbly when Lanaya had used it.

Fenris shakes his head with a loud sigh. Obviously, his markings are a subject repeatedly discussed and he wishes the subject closed, Still, she cannot help but be curious about their nature. "Yet another mage. Hawke, you keep such pleasant company."

Aria scowls at him. How many times has she been prematurely judged just because she is a mage? Back in Ferelden, her decisions had been questioned countless times because of a gift - or curse, depending on the situation - that she was born with. Her expression takes on a lighter form as she exchanges a glance with Bethany, who giggles softly. "It must run in the family then."

His verdant eyes widen in surprise and the tips of his pointed ears twitch with interest. "Family? Then you are..."

"Allow me to introduce my cousin," Reina starts with a smile, "Aria Amell, the Hero of Ferelden."

Ignoring the shocked looks of the new arrivals, Aria shoots her cousin a wry glare. "Honestly, do you have to use the title in all the introductions? It tends to get a bit old after awhile."

"I met a Ferelden Warden once," Merrill says, her demeanor suddenly and uncharacteristically sad. "His name was Duncan. He tried to save two of our hunters who contracted the Blight, but it was too late."

"Really? Duncan was the Warden who recruited me from the Circle. He was a good man who shouldn't have died at Ostagar," Aria says, a brief image of the compassionate Rivaini man flashing through her mind.

"No one should have died at Ostagar," Reina adds solemnly. Aria remembers her mentioning that she and her brother were part of the king's army but managed to escape after Loghain betrayed them. Unfortunately, she had never gotten to meet her only male cousin, as he had died before arriving in Kirkwall.

"Varric shifts uncomfortably, obviously eager to change the subject to a lighter topic. "If you were a Warden in Ferelden, maybe you knew Blondie. That's where he said he was conscripted, right?"

"Well, I wouldn't know him by the nickname you've given him, now would I?"Aria asks sarcastically. "I suppose I'll find out whenever he gets here."

Isabela leans out of her chair to signal Norah but pauses, realising it is not the serving woman approaching them. A smile turns up the edges of her plump lips, and she leans over to nudge Reina in the side. "Speak of the devil, here he comes." The archer shifts in her chair, a faint blush coloring her fair cheeks.

"You will never guess what I've been hearing," the mage says as he walks into the suite. "Apparently the Hero-" He cuts himself off as soon as he sees her, his jaw dropping in shock.

Her own eyes widen and a soft gasp slips past her lips. "You," she whispers, barely audible. His appearance has definitely changed, as well as his demeanor. Gone is the cocky and proud man she once knew, replaced with...something. Despite that, she knows that it is him at first glance.

Anders shifts uncomfortably as she slowly rises to her feet. His hand instinctively reaches back to scratch his neck, unable to make eye contact. "H-Hello, Commander."

Aria steadies herself on the table, her eyes never leaving Anders's face. In a brief moment, her expression changes from shock to one of complete rage. "You bastard!" she screams at the mage, practically seething. Before anyone can react, she reaches out with her magic, casting a lightning bolt that hits him square in the chest and sends him flying across the room.


	5. A Great Divide

Chapter Four - A Great Divide

Immediately, the room erupts into chaos. Anders slams into the wall across the room, his head lulling to the side. Reina lets out a sharp cry and rushes to the mage's side. Still glaring at Anders, Aria stands firmly, her entire body shaking with rage. Bethany and Merrill are practically frantic, running from both ends of the room. Only Varric, Isabela, and Fenris sit quietly. The first two watch carefully, as if writing mental notes to add to their stories later. A twisted smile graces Fenris's face, and he looks up at Aria, almost with admiration.

After making sure that Anders is decidedly not dead, Reina leaps to her feet, her own blue eyes pooling with anger. "What in the Void was that for? Explain yourself, Aria!"

"Don't you dare make demands of me!" Aria yells back. While they had seen her mad before, this is something entirely new. It is as if a wild beast has taken her over. "You know nothing of this, and I owe you no explanation."

"You just attacked one of my friends after he only said two words to you for no reason! I think that deserves some explaining," the archer says back harshly.

"Stop it!" Bethany screams. Both Reina and Aria are taken a back, if only for a moment. The fair-tempered mage never raises her voice, and it is strange to hear her do so. "Yelling at each other will not fix anything." The two women at odds glare at each other but comply with Bethany's advice and do not raise their voices again.

"You think I had no reason?" the Warden practically growls. "That shows how little you know about him. That son of bitch is a liar and a coward, a traitor and a deserter. He does not deserve your compassion." Each word of her last sentence is punctuated with her clenced fist connecting with the table.

Reina's eyes dart down to the unconscious mage in her lap. In the year that she had known him, Anders been one of the kindest, most gentle men she had ever met. When she had to make a tough decision, he stood by her, no matter what the result. Her deft hand gently brushes the loose hair from his face, and she looks up at her cousin, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I don't believe you."

Aria's harsh gaze in unrelenting, and Reina has a hard time meeting it. "Don't believe me? Fine, I'll not demand you agree with me. But choose your side wisely, dear cousin, because it seems you know nothing of the truth, and I do not give second chances. I wonder though, has he told you why he left the Wardens?"

A soft chuckle slips past Reina's lips as she recalls that conversation with Anders. It had been early when they met, but she had already been captivated by his charm. "He said they...they tried to take his cat."

"Ser Pounce-a-Lot?" Aria's nose scrunches up in distaste. "A rotten, mangy beast, but he did love that cat more than any person. I never tried to take the beast from him, for I was the one who gave it to him."

Reina falters in uncertainty. "What do you mean you never did? I thought that his commander tried to take the cat. He never said the Hero of Ferelden did."

"Because that is not how he knew me, not any longer. Did he really not tell you even this? I recruited him into the Wardens to save him from tranquility, and I oversaw his Joining. It was I who he followed and who he betrayed," Aria crosses her arms, her eyes boring intently into her cousin's.

Varric's eyebrows rise in surprise. It seems that there is much that Blondie had not told them. Every word that Aria gets out only strengthens her resolve and her claim while at the same time sucking all the bravado out of Hawke. He can tell just by looking at her that the other archer is terrified, but of what? Of her cousin's wrath? Of the fact the she is falling for a compulsive liar?

Reina moves her mouth to speak but no words come out. Finally the tears drip from her eyes, and the dwarf decides it is time to intervene. Ancestors, he hates seeing humans cry. "I think that's enough, Trigger. This has been a big shock for all of us, and we need some time to process this."

Aria's eyes flash over to him, and, thankfully, any trace of malice seems to have disappeared. As she regards her distraught cousin, a moment of compassion passes so briefly over her visage that Varric questions it even happened. "I would not say these things if they were not true, Reina. I will not press any further, not while he is unable to explain himself. Knowing him, he will try to talk his way out of it. When he awakens, will you mention the name Rylock to him? Maybe that will make him more forthcoming."

Before anyone else can say anything, Aria takes up her staff and slowly makes her way out of the Hanged Man. Those who had stayed out of the spat exchange worried glances. "Bethany," Reina sobs, her shaking hand tracing the line of Anders's brow. Her other hand reaches out towards her sister pleadingly.

Briefly, the mage contemplates running after Aria. Who knows where she will go after a fight like this? She knows nothing of Kirkwall and could easily lose her way. Their cousin is decidedly strong, but with her injury, it would be difficult to fight anyone off. With a heavy sigh, she shakes the thoughts away and joins her sister's side. Anders briefly stirs in Reina's lap while the younger Hawke allows her healing magic to flow through him.

A low moan slips past Anders's lips, and his eyes fly open. He rushes to sit up, but Reina sharply pushes him back. With a sharp groan, his hand flies to his throbbing head. Anders looks up at Reina from her lap and offers her a soft smirk. It takes all her strength not to fall into his arms. Crossing her arms across her chest, she frowns down at him. "You have some explaining to do."

The streets outside are already dark, yet Aria continues walking. Returning to Gamlen's shack for the night is out of the question. Who knows what she and Reina would do to each other? Perhaps she had been right, perhaps she should have just left for Wycome. Knowing that bastard is here has pretty much ruined Kirkwall for her.

"I was wondering where I'd find you," a low voice says behind her. She whirls around on her good leg, staff held tightly and magic glinting from its tip. The Tevinter elf steps forward, his palms turned up in surrender. "I am not here to harm you. I have seen your abilities tonight and would not wish a repeat."

Aria lowers her staff to the ground and relaxes slightly. "Fenris, was it? What are you doing here then?" She eyes him curiously. His stance is confident, and his bright eyes never leave her face.

"Hawke sent me to check on you as soon as Anders awoke," he explains as she bristles at the name of the other mage. "In truth, I think it is because she did not want me to hear his explanation so I wouldn't have anything else to hold against him."

With a flick of her head, Aria wordlessly invites him to walk with her. The two continue down the streets in silence. More than once, Fenris has to remind himself to take shorter, slower steps than he does with Hawke. Despite having to use a crutch to walk, the mage does not hobble or crawl but instead walks coolly and confidently.

"I take it you don't like him either?" Aria says suddenly, casting her dark eyes on him. "Is it for the fact that he is a mage or something else?"

"A little of both, to be honest," the elf mutters. He catches the hard glint in her eyes as she whips her head forward. "I am hesitant to trust mages, but his views on their treatment are skewed."

Aria's mouth sets in a firm line, her eyes narrowed in anger. "How refreshing to know that a non-mage has all the answers towards how we should be treated. That is a great burden off my shoulders."

His deep eyes flash over towards her. His brow knits together in a frown as he watches her jaw clench tightly. "Oh, and I suppose you agree with him? You believe all mages should be free to do as they please with no consequence? Why am I not surprised?"

She whirls on him with a speed he had not expected her to possess. Her arms, surprisingly muscular, pin him to the side of a nearby building. Hazel eyes meet green, each battling for dominance. "I believe that my people should not be treated as lesser beings. I believe that my people should not be preemptively judged for being mages. I believe that my people should be taught to control and not fear themselves."

"That is," he breathes sharply against her arm crushing his chest, "a surprisingly sensible view. Although I doubt it will ever be that simple."

Peering intently at his face, she searches for any signs of mockery. She sees only sincerity in his visage and slowly pulls back from him, wincing at the sore indention the armor had left in her skin. "I know. I am not disillusioned. That change will never happen during our lifetime, probably not even in this age. It is my hope that as mage, I can set an example so that someday, others like me won't be shunned just for being born with magic."

Fenris observes her carefully. She holds her staff between the crook of her elbow, her free hand rubbing the painful marks on her arms. Perhaps now she will know not to attack someone in pointy armor with her bare hands. "Even here, we have heard much of the Blight and the Warden who stopped it. You are...not what I expected."

A smirk pulls at her pale lips, and her brow quirks playfully. "And what did you expect? I hope I don't disappoint."

He chuckles lowly, a deep rumbling in the back of his throat. "Quite the opposite, actually. From what we heard, the Hero of Ferelden was a fiend who fought like a demon with a tongue sharper than a blade and a wit sharper still."

"That sounds pretty accurate," she says with a twist of her lips as she turns to continue walking. "I especially like the sharp wit part. But, if I'm not what you expected, you must think that's not true. I'm hurt, Broody."

The elf grimaces with a huff. "That is not what I meant. The stories we heard are obviously true, and still you surprise me. It is...difficult to explain," he admits turning his head away. Aria raises a delicate brow in confusion but says nothing else.

The two continue walking in a comfortable silence. It is strange, considering that they have only known each other for little more than an hour. Varric would find it absolutely hilarious that the two broodiest people in Kirkwall have banded together in hatred of a certain apostate. Nothing brings people together like the mutual dislike of an individual.

They make it to Hightown before either of them speaks again. "So, where exactly do you plan on going?" Fenris asks. Aria does not answer, her free hand reaching up to twirl her fiery hair around a digit. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she searches the area for a place she could stay the night but comes across nothing. "Or had you not thought that far ahead?"

"I just had to get out of there. I didn't care where I went, still don't. Reina wouldn't let me go back to Gamlen's tonight though. She's probably too angry at me," the mage admits softly.

Fenris chuckles deeply, earning him a glare from Aria. He clears his throat awkwardly as he eyes her out the corner of his eye. "You do not know Hawke half as well as you think then. The woman bleeds forgiveness."

Aria sighs deeply for a moment and says nothing. Fenris thinks that he may have angered her, but she eventually speaks in a harsh, low tone, "It does not matter if she does, for I do not. I will not forgive and forget those who have wronged me."

"A dangerous path to follow," the elf muses thoughtfully. His eyes trail Aria's huddled form as she takes the lead. A sigh slips past his lips while he follows, and neither says anything again.


	6. A Shocking Confession

Chapter Five - A Shocking Confession

Anders groans as he sits up. A pair of deft hands support him as he props himself against the wall, and he looks up into Reina's bright eyes. Apprehension overcomes him at the darkness and despair in those blue orbs. "What happened?" he mutters with a grimace. "It feels like an ogre sat on me."

"Close," Varric chuckles. Given the choice between an angry Aria and an ogre, he probably would choose the ogre. "Let's just say, you seem to have done something to anger our resident hero."

"The commander..." Anders sighs lowly. In truth, he had never expected to see Aria again. Why should he? She is the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. What interest could she have in a city-state in the Free Marches?

Reina's lower lips trembles against her will, and she worries it between her teeth to hide its shaking. The mage's heart sinks into his stomach, heavy with guilt. Whatever she is feeling right now is because of him. Hadn't he told her and himself that he would only hurt her, and they still allowed it to come this far? Finally, she manages to speak, in a low, weak voice. "What happened between you two?"

He drops his gaze as he clears the nervous lump from his throat. His voice trembles slightly as he fails to meet her eyes. "It is complicated. The Wardens and I did not always see eye to eye."

"And that warrants you leaving them?" Reina scoffs with a hurt sneer. "I highly doubt that she would hate you enough to react like that over a simple disagreement."

Anders's eyes the archer playfully, a small smirk pulling at his lips. "I never said it was simple." Despite the harsh frown on her face, her eyes glint in response, and he silently sighs with relief. She has not entirely given up on him then.

"I'm really not in the mood for your jokes right now, Anders. I just..." she pauses as she turns her head away. Her bright eyes clench shut and fight back tears. Why does everything have to be so difficult? "I just want the truth."

"Who says I wasn't tell the truth? Maybe I did leave because of a difference of opinions. And because they took my cat," Anders says bluntly. "You are quick to take that woman at her word when you don't even know her."

Reina whirls on him, her azure eyes both angry and hurt. "Do I even know you, or has everything you've told me been a lie?!" The mage falters at that and looks down silently, unable to come up with an . "Who is Rylock?"

Anders's head snaps up at the mention of that name. His thin lips twitch slightly as his mouth fails to form words. "I-I don't... Where did you hear that name?"

"Aria. She told me to ask you him or her," Reina settles down a bit. It is comforting that he did not deny knowing whoever this Rylock is. Maybe now they'll all finally get some answers.

"Rylock is - or was - a templar. Tasked with bringing me back to the Circle," Anders admits lowly. His mind flashes back to that time, of the templars' armored hands, of Rylock's cocky sneer.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Reina sits on the floor in front of him. Her slim hand reaches out to take his own as his expression contorts to one of pain. "Why did Aria tell me to ask about this templar?"

"Because she was the reason I became a Warden," Anders sighs. From his sit at the other end of the room, Varric hums to himself with interest. Blondie had kept much of his past to himself, so he is very curious to hear the mage's tale.

Anders, on the other hand, seems to be dreading it. After receiving a reassuring glance from Reina, he sighs deeply and settles against the wall. "I had escaped the Circle right after the Blight ended and was free before the templars tracked me down near Denerim. They were taking me back, and one night, they decided to stay at Vigil's Keep, the Grey Warden base in Amaranthine. That night, darkspawn attacked.

"Every single one of them died. They had drained my mana, so I couldn't have helped even if I wanted to. I managed to fish a lyrium potion from one of the templar's bodies by the time the darkspawn broke my cage open. I roasted every single one of the blighted creatures. That was when I met her," Anders's eyes never leave the floor as he speaks. His dry tongue flicks over his even drier lips.

Varric nudges Merrill's side, and the little elf hops up to take Anders a tumbler of water. He downs the tasteless liquid, thankful for the cooling sensation that fills his throat and chest. "She flew into the room, as fierce and fiery as her hair. I thought for a moment she would kill me then and there, but once she noticed the bodies around me, she relaxed and asked me to come with her." He smiles fondly at the memory, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips. "No what happened here, no who are you, no why are there dead templars. Just come with me.

"So I went with her. We saved as many people as we could and soon the keep was filled with those cursed things. That was my first time killed darkspawn. Every time one ran towards us, I thought I would get sick." Anders pauses the story, and Reina takes the opportunity to go over to the table and take the whole jug of fresh water to their corner on the floor.

"After it was all over, we were all a bit shaken. She allowed to stay at the Keep with the Wardens until everyone had recovered. I acted as their healer since she was the only mage, and she's..." he trails off with another laugh, "she's quite shit at healing."

Instantly, he grows somber. "Only a couple days later, the King showed up. Rylock was part of his escort. Word had reached the Circle that a group of templars had died at Vigil's Keep, and - big surprise - they blamed me. Rylock tried to have me arrested and was practically gloating that I would be made Tranquil once we got to Kinlock Hold, but surprisingly, the commander stopped her. She said that I was out of their reach and conscripted me right then and there. And that is how I joined the Wardens."

Reina looks up at him thoughtfully. "So she really did save you from being made Tranquil. Aria said as much but I didn't know if I should believe her."

"I don't understand," Merrill chimes in from her seat. "If Aria hates you, why did she save you?"

"She didn't hate me then," explains Anders. He pours himself another glass of water and downs it before continuing. "In fact, we...we became friends. She was the one helped me destroy my phylactery and gave me my cat."

The archer raises a thin brow. "So she said, as well. I thought you said she was the one who took your cat?"

"No, the situation in Amaranthine was beyond anything we were prepared for, considering our senior warden had only been one for a year. We received reinforcements from Orlais. One day while the commander was out, their captain said Ser Pounce-a-Lot made the order look weak and took away my cat," Anders scowls at the memory. The pompous little man had seemed so smug until the cat buried its claws in his nose.

Varric barks out a sharp laugh. "So you really did leave the Wardens because of a cat, Blondie. I always thought you were shitting us."

The mage smirks up at the dwarf. "I'd never lie to you, Varric. That was only part of the reason, but it was still one of the reasons I chose to leave."

"And the rest?" Reina prods gently. The subject is obvious difficult for Anders, but keeping it secret puts everyone at risk. "Particularly the ones that made Aria hate you."

Sighing deeply, Anders drops his gaze to floor. "Growing up in the Circle, I always felt restricted. Caged like an animal. The only thing I ever dreamed about was being free. I tried time and time again to get out, but they always found me.

"At first, I thought that joining the Wardens would give me freedom, and for awhile it was fun. The commander - Aria - was...different back then. She was still the same old hard ass, but she wasn't so bitter," Anders explains softly. Back then, Aria had been the one person he felt he could consider as a friend. She had known him before Justice. Maker, did she even know about their little arrangement?

With another sigh, he continues his story. "After the novelty wore off, the Wardens began to feel much like the Circle. They had marked me as one of their own. I was forever bound to them. In some ways, it was worse than the Circle. The Wardens took me all across Ferelden. I got to see things I had never heard of before, but none of it was real. I couldn't choose where I went or what I did. It was like being in a prison with glass walls. That freedom I always wanted was right in front of my face but out of my reach."

The entire room falls silent again. He made a point that none of them would have ever considered. Each of them had lived their own life, made their own choices. Leaving the Wardens had probably been the first time Anders had that opportunity. Her voice a soft whisper, Reina finally breaks the silence. "And then?"

"Unlike the Circle, I had resigned myself to being part of the Wardens forever. It never seemed like something I could get away from," he pauses, his breath hitching in the back of his throat, "until Vigil's Keep fell.

"The darkspawns' numbers were too great. We knew we would lose either Amaranthine or the Keep. Aria chose to save the city, and I stayed behind with others to protect the keep. It was a disaster. Our people were falling left and right. Half of the Orlesian mages were taken out by a single emissary, and that was when it came to me," Anders pauses briefly. "Their bodies were beyond recognition. Would it bother anyone if they thought one of them was me?"

The mage swallows the lump in his throat. He knows what he did was the best choice for himself, but it does not mean that he never feels guilty about it. "So I took the opportunity and ran. For the first time in my life, I was free."

His story now complete, Anders sits in a still silence. No one else speaks for quite awhile. Reina finally stands to her feet and slowly walks towards the door. "Reina?" he calls, the worry obvious in his voice.

She turns to look at him over her shoulder and offers him a sad smile. "If you don't mind, I-I need some time to process this. And talk to Aria. I'll meet you at home, Bethany."

Unfortunately, finding her Warden cousin is more difficult than she had anticipated. Neither Leandra nor Gamlen had seen her since they left for the Hanged Man, and searching around town shows no signs of her. Hours pass, and eventually, Reina forces herself to head home for the night. Bethany is already there, as if Merrill surprisingly. The two mages had walked back to Gamlen's house together, and Bethany had invited Merrill to stay until Reina returned.

Days go by and there is no sign of the mage anywhere. A pit of anxiety grows in Reina's stomach. What if it was her fault that Aria left? They had a terrible fight moments before. She had sent Fenris to check on her, but the elf has no clue where she is either.

"Did she say anything about where she might go?" Reina asks him for the thousandth time. Fenris rolls his eyes and sighs into his hand. He knows that the archer is worried, but if he had known nothing days ago, why would he now?

"I have told you before. I invited her to stay at the manor that night because she did not want to return to Gamlen's. In the morning, she was gone," Fenris says pointedly.

Reina runs a hand through her bright hair frantically. "A-And nothing unusual happened? She didn't see something or say something or anything?"

"All we did was drink. Nothing happ-" Fenris cuts himself off, his eyes growing wide with realisation. "Now that you mention it, something did seem odd. It was on the way to the manor. A beggar grabbed her robe and muttered some nonsense about a lion. I thought nothing of it, but she seemed...flustered by it."

"A lion?" Reina repeats as her brows scrunches in confusion. "That doesn't make any sense. Can you remember what the beggar said?"

Fenris thinks for a moment before shaking his head sadly. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't pay much attention to it. I don't know what the beggar said, but what do you want to bet that's why she's gone?"


End file.
